GAUVIN: Asking for the kind of respect one would want for one’s own family

Written by Patriot Staff

August 17, 2012

Paul Gauvin photo
SIGNS, SIGNS – Too much to ask?

The late comedian Rodney Dangerfield made a career out of shaking his head from side to side, faking a hang-dog expression, shrugging his shoulders and lamenting, “I don’t get no respect, ya know?”

In that vein, he joins the silent majority that we like to presume rests in peace in the town’s 17 cemeteries, supposedly free of life’s humiliating situations that Dangerfield could somehow morph into humor. An example: “I don’t get no respect, ya know? Take my dog. We call him Egypt. He leaves pyramids in every room.”

It would be appropriate humor for Dangerfield if he were interred at Oak Grove Cemetery in Hyannis, for example, where, we are told, residents let their dogs relieve themselves upon the sacred grounds of the town’s dearly departed; or where boozers wander in to lean against markers to guzzle a cool one and mumble nonsense to the spirits; or where the illicit drug vendors slip and slide like furtive chameleons, melting among the tombstones to buy or sell.

In cases where people ignore the dignity of the departed, perhaps even the dedicated comedian would have a difficult go at humor beyond “I don’t get no respect.”

This brings us to 70-year-old Tom Holmes, the unofficial mayor of Sea Street, where the cemetery is located. For years, Hizzoner Holmes has made early-morning rounds in the gardens of remembrance as a volunteer placing and checking the 400 or more flags at veterans’ graves there. It is a task he takes to heart day after day and year after year with profound respect for those who served, not having had the opportunity himself.

And, since last year, Holmes also pauses for a nostalgic interlude at the site where his wife, Shirley (Woodbury), who died last year, lies with her parents.

Local heroes are also buried there. Among them are Wesley Lewis, who was lost in a military flight over the Atlantic in 1945 and Richard Archer, a Navy machinist mate who in 1967 gave his life in Vietnam.

There are also civilian champions and personalities who contributed much to the community and society: Ruth Rusher, who died a nonagenarian after a long life of serving the public welfare and willing her harborfront home to hostel usage for the less affluent traveler; Eugenia Fortes, a feisty, outspoken advocate for civil rights and good government; and Ed Semprini, a newsman who disseminated information and pleasure as the voice and soul of Cape Cod for many years before succumbing in his 90s.

Holmes says it hurts him when the living lose respect for memories of the departed, and do so in ways that are easily avoided. It is a quixotic dream, he suspects, to think that vagrants, boozers, young vandals who desecrate or destroy monuments, and drug dealers have the capacity to care about such a thing, but he does believe that letting dogs run free and leave deposits on the graves of the silent majority could be avoided. Imagine the nuisance of visiting a loved one’s final resting place and finding a dog dollop upon it.

Holmes is a sometimes blunt, outspoken critic, advocate and guardian of things public. And it gets him into trouble at times. His early morning tasks at the cemetery on occasion result in some neighbor calling the police about a suspicious person.

Other times, he has gotten into heated words with dog owners, and become infuriated when a loose pet disturbs the solemnity of a burial service, or a resident uses a cemetery water outlet reserved for watering plants to wash a car.

His observations do open up a question about public-private property. While town cemeteries are billed as public, the lots could be considered private, albeit they are maintained – and very well so, Holmes observes - by town landscaping crews. Burial lots are purchased by families, much as a building lot. Families pay also for interment. You buy it, you own it. It belongs to you.

A case could be made that public cemeteries are open by right to dog owners and their pets, pre-empting the town from banning dogs, boozers, vandals and drug dealers. It is said, not so convincingly, that cemetery fences are useless since the people inside can’t get out, and those outside don’t want to get in. Conversely, public beaches ban dogs in summertime and a public park – Burgess in Marstons Mills – has been declared a no-smoking area, a rarity in the public domain.

It seems logical then that prohibiting dog owners from letting pets run loose in cemeteries to make deposits appears within reason. The private Catholic cemetery in Centerville has a sign at the main entrance: No dogs.

Oak Neck Cemetery, which is part of the Oak Grove complex between Oak Neck Road and Old Colony Drive, also has a sign, albeit not as blunt.

It simply asks: “Please respect our families…No Dogs Allowed.” From this corner, the intent of the message need only be observed by those who understand the value of respect.

Respect for the departed is a topic that could be brought up at the towns Growth Management Department Sea Street Visioning Session from 6 to 9 p.m. Monday in the town hall council chamber, to which all residents are invited.